


A Dark Blend

by jennandanica



Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orli's willing to take anything Sean will give him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for paddyg on livejournal.

Orli wants him. Wants him so badly that he doesn't know what he will do if he can't have him. But feels like it might well be the end of the world. Dreams of him nightly. Thinks of him every waking moment. Shares a fucking trailer and a ton of scenes with him so there's no escaping there.

And it might be easier if he was more like Viggo, then he might be reluctant to hang around with the younger cast members and just stay home but he's not. Comes out to the clubs and the pubs and the house parties. Hangs around, drinking, laughing and rough-housing with them. Producing in Orli this unbelievable urge to bang his own head against a fucking wall every time he sees him, in an utterly useless attempt to force these thoughts, these desires, this need from his mind.

Because Orli is obsessed with Sean Bean. Obsessed. Obsession the only applicable word for this bloody overwhelmingly compulsive desire consuming him. Because Sean, for his part, hasn't shown a single solitary sign of noticing Orli in that way. Not a one. Not a smidge. Not a flicker. Not a glimmer. Nothing.

And Orli's really not used to that. Knows it would sound egotistical and vain if he said it out loud. But he can't help it. It's not his fault. When it comes down to it, he doesn't even see it. But he's heard it all his life. How beautiful he is. Not a day passes that he's not invited into someone's bed - or even their heart - because of it.

So why in the hell - out of all the people in the entire fucking world that he could fall for - has he gone and fallen for Sean fucking Bean? Completely heterosexual, straight as a fucking board, manly man Sean Bean. Interested only in his girls and acting and football and beer. _Shit_.

And it's not like Orli hasn't tried. He has. Has pulled out all his best moves. Smiled, touched, flirted. Learned about football and those stupid fucking Blades like some teenaged girl just to have an excuse to talk with Sean. Pressed up against him, inadvertently brushed across him, hugged and kissed him, although always as a joke, every chance he's been given.

And nothing. Not a damned thing. No reaction. Not disgust. Not disinterest. Not _get the hell off me. I don't go for that, mate_. Nothing.

Orli wishes he could stop himself from feeling this way. Just give up. Transfer his feelings to Viggo, Elijah, or Dave. Even Harry. All of whom have expressed a definite interest. But he can't. Not while there's even a shred of hope.

And he thinks that maybe if he forces the issue, gets Sean to give him an outright no, an absolute _never-gonna-happen_ that he might finally be able to put his feelings behind him.

Which brings him to tonight. At this club. At this table. With Viggo, Elijah, Billy and Dom. And, of course, Sean.

***

Orli's sitting across the table from Sean, listening as he tells some obnoxiously obscene but hilariously funny joke. Watching his mouth move, thinking _I want to bite your lips_ when Sean suddenly looks at him. Straight at him. Oh, Christ. Did he say that out loud? But no one else is paying any attention so he smiles. And Sean smiles back. The glimmer of whatever was there gone. Replaced by the usual hail-friends-well-met Sean Bean grin. And _shit_.

He'd had big plans for this night but when it comes down to it, he's really not feeling well. Just wants to go home. Unfortunately, he came with Elijah, Billy and Dom and there's no way they're ready to go home yet. Viggo and Sean came in Sean's car and they'll go home earlier than the Hobbits, but he has a feeling it still won't be early enough.

So he leans over, cupping his hand against Viggo's ear and says "I'm not feeling well. I'm going to take a cab home. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Viggo looks concerned. "Are you sure you're okay to get home by yourself?"

"Yeah. Make my excuses for me?" Orli asks.

Viggo nods.

***

Orli thought for sure there'd be a cab outside. He's never come out of here when there wasn't. But not tonight. Just his luck. He's made up his mind to go back in and call for one when the door opens and Sean comes out.

"Viggo told me you weren't feeling well. I'll take you home," Sean says, keys in hand.

"You don't have to do that," Orli says, shaking his head. "I can call a cab."

"Don't be daft. I'll take you home. Make sure you get in safely."

"What about Viggo?"

"He'll catch a ride home with the Hobbits."

And Orli thinks he should probably refuse again, insist on calling a cab, but he's really not feeling well and it's kind of Sean to offer.

"Thanks, Sean."

"No problem."

***

Orli sits in the passenger seat, body turned halfway towards Sean, one leg under him, seatbelt done up because Sean insisted. And he can't help but think how beautiful Sean is. Most people would say handsome. But then most people haven't looked. Really looked. Because he's most definitely beautiful. And Orli wants to kiss him. Wants to place his lips on Sean's and--

"Orli?" Sean glances over him. "Are you okay?"

"Not really," Orli says, turning his head to the window. "But I think I'm just tired. Feeling kind of dizzy."

"Well, there's no one on the road at the moment. I'm not driving that fast. If you want you can lie down, put your head on my leg."

And it's an innocent offer, nothing more, but Orli will take any chance to be close to Sean, to touch him, to feel him. Unbuckles his seatbelt and lies down across the seat, placing his head on Sean's lap.

"Better?" Sean asks.

"Better," Orli answers. And it is. He doesn't feel quite so bad lying like this, with his head against Sean. Savours this contact, this first instance of touching him with outright permission. Closes his eyes, breathes deeply, feels himself harden slightly at the idea of being this close to Sean's cock, thinking if he could only turn his head, moving slightly and -oh-

but he hasn't even touched Sean, not in any way that would--

"I think maybe you should sit up," Sean says. "I can't drive like this."

Orli sits up, feeling confused. Buckles his seatbelt. Shivers.

"Are you okay?" Sean asks again.

"I told you. I'm not feeling well," Orli says. _And I'm sure I just felt your hard cock against the back of my head. And if that doesn't mean you want me, what does it mean?_ "Sean?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

_Christ_. He hadn't imagined it.

"I don't mind, Sean. I--"

And Sean twists the wheel sharply, pulling the car over to the side of the road and stopping. Turning to face Orli, his anger written clearly across his face.

"Do you think I'm fucking blind, Orli? I know you don't mind. I've known for ages that you don't mind. You've done everything in your power to let me know, to make me know. But I mind. I mind very much."

Orli doesn't know what to say. Didn't know Sean felt like this at all.

"I didn't know," he offers, curling his legs as far up to his chest as he manage with the stupid seatbelt on. "I thought you didn't notice. I'm sorry." Pausing before adding softly. "I had no idea you hated me so much."

Sean looks at him, the anger draining from his face. "I don't hate you, Orli."

"Then what?" Orli asks. "It certainly doesn't sound like you like me."

Sean shakes his head. "Fucking hell."

Orli's sentiments exactly.

Sean grips the steering wheel, stares out the windshield. "You don't know me, Orli. You may think you do but you don't. Whether I like you or not doesn't matter. I'm not a nice person and you shouldn't want me to like you. I fuck up everything I touch--"

"Sean--"

"No," Sean says. "Listen to me. I've got three failed marriages behind me. And there are damn good reasons why they failed. So we can be friends. We can be good friends. But there will never be anything more and you need to accept that."

"I can't help it," Orli says. "I've tried. Do you really think I would have kept after you all this time if I had any control over it."

"Orli, I don't think you understand. You really don't know what you're doing. You're playing with fire and--"

"So burn me," Orli says quietly, just underneath his breath.

Sean stops, looking at him closely. "What did you say?"

"So burn me," Orli repeats, holding Sean's gaze.

And Sean closes his eyes, the tension in his body clear across the car. Exhales softly and opens his eyes. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I don't care," Orli says.

"What do you want, Orli?" Sean asks. "What do you really want?"

And Orli answers. "You. Anything you'll give me."

Sean unbuckles his seatbelt and steps out of the car, leaning against the side. Orli waits a minute and gets out as well, going around to the driver's side. Steps in front of Sean.

"Sean, I--"

And Sean reaches out, lightning quick, grabbing Orli, pulling him tight against his body and kissing him, hard, his tongue fierce and insistent, his lips intent on bruising the flesh beneath them. Sean slides his hands down to cup Orli's arse, grinding his cock across Orli's front. And Orli moans. Sean moves one hand up and back down under the waistband of Orli's jeans, sliding between his cheeks and roughly shoving two fingers up into him, Orli crying out into Sean's mouth.

And Sean stops kissing him, pulls back to look at him, moving his fingers, Orli pressing hard against his hand. "Is _this_ what you want?" he asks, twisting his fingers, making Orli mewl. "Is it? Cause this is how I like it."

And Orli can barely think much less speak but he knows he needs to say something. "Yes," he says. "This is what I want. I told you. I'll take anything you'll give me."

"Fine," Sean says, removing his fingers, wiping them on the back of Orli's t-shirt. "Get back in the car."

***

Sean doesn't speak another word the rest of the way to Orli's house and Orli can't think of anything to say. But that's a huge lie. He can think of a million things to say, none of them seeming right, none of them seeming appropriate. He's caught between feeling so unbelievably happy that he's finally got what he's wanted, that he's finally going to have Sean, that Sean is going to be with him, even if it's only for one night, and feeling terrified about what Sean is going to do, what he will want, how he will take what Orli has so willingly offered.

_So burn me_ Orli has said. He's invited and Sean's accepted. Can't back down now. Doesn't want to back down now. But...

And they're pulling into his driveway, Sean turning the car off, removing the keys from the ignition. Turning to face Orli, looking more resigned than anything else.

"You can change your mind," Sean says. "We can pretend this never happened."

"I don't want to."

And Sean just nods. Opens the car door.

***

Orli's place is a mess. Clothes strewn everywhere, half-empty juice boxes on the coffee table, old scripts and papers on every available surface. When Orli turns on the light, Sean looks around in horror, shaking his head. "You do know we have housekeeping available?"

"I know but I felt so bad when I had them in the first time, I didn't feel right having them back," Orli says, coming to stand in front of Sean.

"You look flushed," Sean says, placing a hand on his forehead. "You feel hot, Orli. You should probably go to bed."

"Not unless you come with me," Orli answers.

"Not a chance," Sean says and Orli looks away. Reminds himself that he'd said he would take anything Sean was willing to give him.

"Then what?"

"You have condoms? Lube?"

Orli nods, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat.

"Get them."

Orli goes to the bedroom. Opens his top dresser drawer, retrieving the lube and condoms. He's feeling dazed, almost drunk, some bizarre combination of illness and lust. And if he were thinking straight he would probably send Sean home. Go to bed. Get some sleep. But he hasn't been thinking straight for months. And this is no time to start.

Comes back to Sean.

"Put the stuff on the couch." Orli does. "And take your clothes off."

-oh god-

Orli slips off his shoes. Watches Sean's face as he peels his t-shirt off, dropping it to the floor. Sean's expression is unreadable. Orli unzips his jeans, pushes them and his boxers down over his hips and to the floor, steps out of them.

Stands in front of Sean, his cock already hard. Harder than he's ever been before.

Sean looks him up and down, reaches out to stroke Orli's chest, pinching his nipples, moving his hands upwards to his neck and shoulders before trailing back down his sides, over his hipbones, before running his hands down Orli's back, along his spine, trailing thumbs between the cheeks of his arse, pressing in slightly.

Orli moans.

Sean steps back. "Undress me."

Orli isn't sure if Sean wants him to make a seduction of this. But thinks not. So he quickly unbuttons Sean's shirt and removes his jeans and boxers, throwing them onto the pile of his own clothes.

And Sean says, "Down."

Orli hesitates. Only for a second but too long nevertheless, Sean's hand on his shoulder pushing him down.

"Do it."

Orli looks up at him and Sean grabs his head, pressing his face against his groin. Orli groans. Can't help but notice that Sean is larger than average, both longer and thicker. Worries about his ability to do this justice.

Orli takes Sean's cock into his mouth - just the head - licking and sucking gently. Teasing with his tongue. Dipping into the slit which makes Sean groan. But it's obviously not what Sean had in mind because he cups Orli's head in his hands and begins fucking Orli's mouth with his cock, pushing deep into his throat with each and every thrust. And Orli's trying hard to relax, to let Sean slide in and out as he wants, but it's difficult and Sean's not giving him time to accommodate, to adjust, to breathe and -oh-

Sean pulls out. Orli's throat hurts and he's beginning to think this was a big mistake but then he looks up at Sean and no, it's not.

"Hands on the end of the couch."

Orli goes to the couch, puts his hands on the armrest, legs spread wide and waiting for Sean, offering himself up again, open to whatever he wants to take from him.

Orli feels Sean move behind him. He's not touching him yet. Just looking. And Orli feels so very vulnerable, so very open and so very hard at the very thought of Sean checking him out, inspecting him.

-oh god-

Sean reaches past him and grabs the lube from the back of the couch. Orli hears the lid pop on the tube and finds himself trembling in anticipation.

And finally Sean's hands touch him, fingers stroking up and down his cleft. Teasing. Just teasing. Before pushing in without warning. Orli bucks instinctively, moving away, Sean curling one arm under his stomach and pulling him back against his hand, shoving his fingers - two, maybe three - in rough and deep. Insistent on opening, widening, stretching.

-fuck-

Orli shudders. Spreads his legs even wider. Offers himself up to whatever Sean wants. Anything. He will do anything. And there should be shame in this. He should feel humiliated. But he doesn't. Wants this. Want Sean more than he's ever wanted anything in his life and he will take him anyway he can get him. And this. This appeals to something deep and dark inside him, something that only began to reveal itself when he offered to let Sean consume him. Something that absolutely revels in this feeling of being taken, of losing control.

And Sean's fingers are stroking his prostate, raking almost, and -oh god- the feeling is so intense that Orli thinks he might lose it right now but he doesn't want to. Wants to come with Sean's cock deep and hard inside him. Wants to ask but can't speak and yet somehow Sean knows

quickly slicks a condom onto too-hard flesh, removing his fingers and shoving his cock deep into Orli's arse with a single thrust. Orli cries out, lowers his head to the couch, arching his back, pushing fiercely against Sean. Sean fucks him mercilessly. Orli feels his balls tighten, feels the flush, the ache spreading through his body. He wasn't fully prepared. Still isn't prepared. But the pain feels like pleasure and he's hungry for more, wants to feel this tomorrow, want to feel this for days. Knowing that Sean took him, possessed him, claimed him. And Sean grasps his hips in his hands, grasps so tightly that Orli will see his fingerprints for a week, the bruises already forming. Rides him hard. Rides him into the ground. Rides him in a rhythm that has Orli writhing under him, shuddering against him, needing, wanting, begging wordlessly for more.

Moves his hands from Orli's hips, moves them to his cheeks, spreading them so he can plunge even deeper. And Orli cries out, keening, whimpering, mewling, unable to control himself, unaware of anything except Sean's cock in his ass.

"Oh, god, Sean. Oh, god."

Sean slips his arms under Orli's body, grasping his shoulders, gaining ever better leverage and hammering relentlessly into his body. Orli thinks he might be trying to force his whole body inside him and the idea blows his mind. Sean's assault is unending, his endurance amazing and Orli is not sure he can hold on, not sure he can stay upright, feels his legs buckle, his arms giving way but Sean holds him, keeps him standing

"Please, Sean," he finally says but it's only a whisper and he's not sure if Sean's heard him

but then one arm is back under his body holding him against Sean and the other is on his cock, gripping it oh-so-tightly, jerking oh-so-roughly. Once twice three times and Orli cries out, his cock pulsing, comes spurting into Sean's hand. And Sean gathers the come, moves his hand to Orli's face and Orli licks his hand clean, tasting himself on Sean's skin. And Sean is still hard, still thrusting

Orli whispers "Sean, please, I can't..."

and Sean rumbles "You will."

Keeps thrusting. Harder and harder. Biting the back of Orli's neck, along his shoulders, the blood welling just below the surface. Sliding a hand back down Orli's front, using what's left of Orli's come to slick Orli's softening cock, stroking and stroking, making him hard again, Orli stunned in the face of his body's unending complicity.

And Sean shoves into him. Again and again, each thrust striking true across Orli's prostate. Setting down that brutal punishing rhythm that has Orli spiraling ever higher on waves of pleasure and pain and -fuck oh fuck- Orli comes, comes again, bucks back against Sean, his hips moving, his insides clenching and

Sean pushes brutally deep again and again and

-oh god- comes into him so hard that Orli thinks he should be able to taste it.

Sean pulls out of Orli. Moves him to sit on the couch. Strides into the kitchen, bringing back a tea towel for Orli to clean himself.

Squats down beside him on his heels. "You okay?"

Orli nods. Wants to kiss Sean but thinks it's probably against the rules.

"You're still not feeling well." Sean says. It's not a question but Orli shakes his head anyway. Sean moves his hand to Orli's forehead. "Shit. You're really burning up."

Puts his arms under Orli, picking him up and moving down the hallway into the bedroom, where he manages to keep ahold of Orli with one arm while throwing clothes off his unmade bed with the other and laying Orli down on the rumpled sheets. "I'll be right back."

Orli closes his eyes.

Coolness.

Opens them to find Sean standing over him, placing a moist washcloth on his forehead. Notices that Sean is dressed. Sean leaves the bedroom again, coming back with a glass of cold water and a couple of paracetamol, helping Orli raise his head for the pills and a sip of water. Draws the sheet up over Orli's body, sitting down beside him on the bed. "Any better?"

"Yeah," Orli says, smiling weakly. "I'll live."

"I should go," Sean says.

Orli grabs his arm, pulling him back down. "That was amazing, Sean."

Sean refuses to look at him, stares at the bedroom door. Finally says "As good as Viggo or Elijah?"

"What?" Orli asks, not understanding.

"I asked if I did as good a job of fucking you as Viggo or Elijah or from what I've seen, half of the cast."

Orli struggles to sit up but can't. Too weak. "I never..." he says. "Not with Viggo. Not with Elijah. Not with anyone since I've been here."

And Sean looks at him, something suspiciously like fear crossing his face before sliding away once again. "I don't believe you."

"Then fuck you," Orli says, not even angrily, just having had it, feeling too sick to argue about this, to try and convince Sean of this, giving up and lying back against the pillow. "But I'm telling the truth. I only wanted you. I waited for you."

Sean's silent, staring at his hands for a minute before standing and exhaling softly.

"Well, you shouldn't have," he says and exits the bedroom without looking at Orli, the front door slamming closed a minute later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean hadn't meant for it to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for paddyg on livejournal.

Sean leaves Orli's place, slamming the door behind him. Gets into his car, placing the keys in the ignition, and stops. Rests his forehead against the steering wheel, feeling utterly disgusted with himself.

_What the hell have I done?_

He hadn't meant for it to happen. Had told himself from the moment he first laid eyes on Orli that he wouldn't _let_ it happen. But he has.

~~~~~~

Peter introduces them. "Sean, this is Orlando Bloom. Legolas. Orlando, meet Sean Bean. He's our Boromir."

"Nice to meet you," Sean says, turning to the younger man and offering his hand.

"Same here," Orlando responds, smiling, taking Sean's hand in his.

Sean looks into his eyes, feeling something deep within him respond to Orlando in a way he's never responded to anyone before. And he thinks that there's no possible way he can even look at him and not give himself away.

But Peter continues with the introductions, the Hobbits - already lumped together - yelling greetings, instantly friendly, instantly accepting, constantly touching and hugging.

And Sean has time to look at Orlando. Really look. To feel the ache in his chest that couldn't possibly be what he thinks it might be. Because there's simply no way it could be _that_. Sean's been around the block far too many times for it to be _that_. For him to be feeling what he couldn't possibly be feeling for someone he just met.

And he swears to himself that he is not going to do this. Will not _allow_ himself to do this. He's wrecked enough lives as it is and he's not about to add another to the count.

~~~~~~

He had fought against his every instinct for months. Ignored every fucking signal Orli sent his way. Felt like he was going crazy when he saw what his inattention, his very indifference was doing to Orli. Had seen the looks, the longing glances, the pain appearing on the younger man's face far too often, if only for a moment, before the mask of self-assurance slipped back in place.

He wasn't blind. He'd known from the moment he'd shaken the younger man's hand that Orli felt the same way. Had seen that glimmer, that flicker light up his eyes, cross his face before being quickly tucked away. But there. Definitely there. Just long enough for Sean to see it, to feel it touch him deep inside.

But he'd told himself he wouldn't do it. Had raged against his overwhelming desire to surrender for months. And all for nothing in the end. Because he's done it. Done it after all. And nothing he can do now will take it back.

***

Orli's lying in bed, spooned against his pillow, trying not to think about what just happened. Because, truth be told, he's not really sure what just happened. It had never even occurred to him that Sean would have believed the rumours. He and Viggo are best friends. Surely they would have talked. Besides, when - between filming and mooning over Sean - would Orli have had time to fuck half the people he's rumoured to have done?

He'd jumped to the conclusion, earlier in the car, that Sean hated him and he knows a lot of people would think that what Sean just did proves it. But Orli's not stupid. He's pretty sure, given the little Sean's said about himself and his marriages, that what Sean did here tonight says a lot more about his hatred for himself than it does anything he might feel about Orli.

That said, Orli knows that same self-hatred - as much as it has him aching for Sean - makes Sean a very dangerous man and he should probably just call it quits, now, while he still can. While he knows that he's had Sean and Sean's had him and that Sean did want him after all. That should be enough. But Orli knows he won't do it. Can't help the way he feels. Has already committed himself to seeing this through. Committed himself the moment he told Sean he wanted him. Was willing to take anything he would give him. Anything.

***

The next morning, Sean opens the door to the makeup trailer as Orli's coming out, already in costume. Seeing Sean, Orli shifts into Legolas, effortlessly assuming the elf's cool calm demeanour; his shock at seeing Sean so soon, so abruptly after last night, barely evident.

Orli lowers his eyes, ducking his head and quietly passing by him. And Sean knows then that Orli meant what he said about taking whatever Sean was willing to give him. There won't be any drama, any recriminations on this set. Orli will keep silent about what's happened between them and Sean can end it here, with what's already happened.

But, as he watches Orli walk up the path to the Hobbits' trailer, he knows that he won't. He can't. Has already set in motion events he will have to see through to their conclusion. And having already had Orli's body beneath him, felt its heat and its tightness surround him, he can't imagine not having that again. No matter the cost.

***

Viggo's inside, sitting in one of the make-up chairs, feet up on the table in front of him, scribbling something in his journal. Costumed and already in Aragorn mode, Sean knows he shouldn't disturb him but he has to know. Just has to ask.

Stands beside him. "Viggo?"

"Yeah?" Not looking up from his book.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He's not sure how to put this. "Have you been with Orli?"

Viggo looks up. Sean has his attention now. "You mean fucked him?"

"Yeah, that's what I mean," Sean says, almost grudgingly.

"You know I don't usually kiss and tell," Viggo says, with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, too fucking tired to deal with Viggo's cryptic nature right now. "Let's just say I need to know."

Viggo looks at him strangely, tucking his hair behind one ear. "No, I haven't. Why?"

"I just assumed you had. You left the pub with him one night after you spent the whole evening talking. I thought you went home together."

"That doesn't tell me why you need to know," Viggo says, completely serious now.

_Shit_.

He feels himself flushing.

Can spot the exact moment when Viggo gets it.

"Oh." Pausing. "Last night?"

Sean nods. Sits down in the chair beside Viggo.

"So you're the one," Viggo says, smiling at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, we did leave together that night and you're right, we probably _were_ going to hook up but Orli changed his mind. He said he was sorry but there was someone he liked very much," Viggo pauses. "And even though that person hadn't shown any interest in him, he needed to wait and see if anything came of it."

"Christ," Sean says, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to bang his head against the nearest wall.

"You don't sound happy? It wasn't good?"

"Fuck that," Sean says, almost groaning out loud at the memory of how Orli had felt against him, beneath him, around him. "It was great. Unbelievable."

"Then what?" Viggo asks, clearly confused.

"I hurt him."

"You what?" Viggo moves forward, his eyes blazing, and for a moment Sean thinks Viggo might actually hit him.

"Not like that," Sean says, waving him off. "But I was rough with him. Really rough."

Viggo nods. Just sits there. Looking at Sean. Does that sometimes. Stays quiet, creating this silence that sits there, between them, until Sean feels compelled to fill it. Fucking annoying, really.

"I had this idea he'd worked his way through you and Elijah and half the cast. You know the jokes that get tossed around."

And once again, Viggo just nods. _Bastard_.

"And I'd been trying to avoid him."

Again with the nodding.

"Besides, he deserves better than anything I can offer him."

Viggo shakes his head. "Okay. Let me get this straight. On one hand you thought he was a slut so you punished him but on the other hand you think he's too good for you so you're punishing yourself?"

"Viggo--"

"No. Look," Viggo says. "As far as I know, Orli hasn't slept with anyone since coming to New Zealand. And not for a lack of offers as you're well aware. I have no idea what he did before then. But I don't picture him hopping in and out of beds at home and then coming here and suddenly deciding to be celibate for several months while waiting for you." Pausing. "Besides, you're a good man, Sean. I don't know why you think--"

"You don't know me," Sean responds, shaking his head.

"What?"

"You may think you do. But you don't. I'll hurt him, Viggo. I don't know how to do anything else."

"Sean--"

"No. Don't. Fuck," Sean says, standing up. "I'm sorry I even brought it up."

"Sean--"

"Viggo. I'm telling you. Don't."

Viggo opens his mouth to speak, stops and closes it again, shakes his head slightly at Sean but finally gives a small nod - _if that's the way you want it_ \- and returns to his journal.

***

Orli considers telling Peter he's sick. He _was_ sick last night. Still isn't feeling well when it comes down to it. Just wants to go home. Thinks he overestimated his ability to deal with Sean following last night. Thinking about dealing having turned out to be an entirely different animal from actually dealing. And maybe he should just go home. He really _does_ feel like throwing up.

What had he been thinking? Why had he offered? How could he have got himself into this mess? His first big fucking break career-wise and he's risking everything because of this. Because of Sean fucking Bean.

But he loves him. _Fuck that_. He can't. Doesn't even know him. Doesn't even know what he _thought_ he knew about him. But he does. Has since the moment he first laid eyes on him. And there's a little voice inside his head that says he's only fooling himself pretending otherwise. That he's already played his hand. Can't take it back now. Will simply have to ride it out.

***

Sean finds himself watching Orli. Sean watching Orli. Boromir watching Legolas. Watches as Orli's eyes flicker over him. Always moving. Never lingering. Afraid of giving himself away. And it only tightens the connection. The two men bound together by their fears.

Then comes the moment when Orli's eyes flicker to Sean and pause for a minute. When Sean catches him. Feels his cock pulse. And _Christ_, well, Orli did say _anything_. And he needs to do this. Needs to do it so very badly.

A break in shooting and Sean approaches Orli from behind, pressing close and rumbling in his ear, "Trailer. Two minutes," feeling Orli tremble against him.

***

Sean is pacing the length of the trailer when the door opens and Orli slips in, locking the door behind him and crossing the room to stand in front of Sean.

"I'm here," he says.

"Leggings off," Sean answers, watching Orli swallow hard in response, his eyes darkening.

Orli pulls off his boots and removes his leggings, his tunic just covering his arse, tented by his cock which is already hard.

"Face the wall," Sean says, stepping back to let Orli pass.

Orli pulls his tunic up to his waist, presses himself against the wall, placing his arms above his head, hands against the wall and Sean can see that he's shaking.

"Afraid or excited?" He wants to know.

"Both," Orli says softly.

"Good."

Sean offers Orli his fingers. "Suck them." And Orli does. Opens his mouth and draws them in, sliding his tongue around them, covering them with saliva.

"Enough," Sean says, removing his fingers, scraping them against Orli's teeth and wincing slightly. Slides his other hand over Orli's mouth at the same time he shoves all three up into Orli's arse and Orli cries out into his hand.

"Too much?" he asks.

Orli shakes his head.

"More?"

Orli nods, moans.

Sean removes his fingers, Orli keening at the loss. Waits. Feels Orli waiting. Waits until he feels him just start to relax and shoves them deep into him once again. Orli's body clenches and he whimpers against Sean's hand, pressing back hard against his fingers. Shudders as Sean begins working his fingers into his body. They don't have much time but this is part of the fun. Curls his fingers around each other. Twisting them into Orli's arse. Rubbing his prostate with every each and every movement. And Orli gasps, Sean finally removing his hand from Orli's mouth. Moves his hips against Sean's hand, his body begging for more. And four fingers. Deep. Oh-so-deep.

Sean considers what Viggo told him about Orli. About his activities. Knows _he's_ clean. So fuck it. Unlaces his pants with one hand, still twisting into Orli with the other, pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, pushing all the way in with one quick thrust. Orli cries out and bucks but stills himself and returns to whimpering. Sean slides a hand around his front, needing to know once again and yes, he's hard as hell, groans at Sean's touch.

Sean begins thrusting, seeking just the right angle, pushing hard, withdrawing to the head and shoving deep again in long fluid strokes. Orli shaking, moaning, writhing against the wall, pressing back against him.

Sean fists Orli's cock, moving his hand up and down in time to his thrusts, his hand and Orli's cock crushed against the wall and

-oh god-

_this feels so good_. Unbelievable. And the blood is rushing from his brain, his balls tightening, his body aching, demanding its release. And there's nothing better. This is it. Being able to fuck Orli like this. Take what he wants, when he wants and how he likes it. Begins ramming his cock into Orli. Wants him to taste it when Sean comes. Fucks him so hard that he thinks he'll have trouble sitting for days. And then -oh fuck- he's there, right there, at the edge and he gives a quick tight jerk on Orli's cock, Orli swearing and coming, hot and heavy all over his hand and the wall and his insides are clenching, milking Sean's cock and Sean shoves hard again, once, twice -fuck- and comes hard into his arse.

Stays there for a moment, catching his breath, stopping himself just as he goes to kiss Orli's neck, pulls out and away, wiping himself with some tissues and lacing up his pants.

Orli's turned around, still breathing hard, his eyes glazed, face flushed.

"Will you come over tonight?" he asks.

And it's the least Sean can do. "Yeah, I'll come."

***

Could he possibly make things any worse? Allowing Sean to fuck him bare-back up against the wall of the Cuntebago. What the hell was he thinking? Was he even thinking?

He can't deny it felt good. Felt so very good. Actually gives him this unbelievable feeling of power, of control, to know that he can have that effect on Sean, make Sean want to take him, do him like that. Without thinking twice.

But there's got to be consequences for what they are doing. Somewhere along the line they're going to have to pay for this. Yet he can't afford to think about that right now. He has what he wanted. Sean. Maybe not how he would choose to have him if he had any real say in the matter. But he has him. And for now, right now, it's enough.

***

Sean stands on the doorstep outside Orli's house. Hesitates for a moment before knocking at the door.

Inside, he watches as Orli stands in front of him, takes his clothes off without a word, and places his hands on the armrest of the couch. Sean wants to stop him. Wants to tell him this isn't right. That this afternoon was a mistake. That this is not what he wants. Not what he needs. But it is.

And the sight of Orli spread before him plays havoc with his thoughts, chases the words he would say from his mind.

So he undresses.

***

Weeks pass. Sean fucks Orli on and against every available surface. In costume. Out of costume. On set. Off set. Rumbles "now" and Orli complies. Fucks him hard, without mercy. Never kisses him. Never beds him. Refuses to stay the night and Orli learns not to ask. Never a soft word and Orli comes not to expect one. Just orders and obedience.

No one except Viggo knows they are lovers. If indeed lovers is what you could call them. Cast and crew think them friends, good friends, nothing appearing to have changed between them.

Viggo knows and even he can't see the difference. Catches a glance here and there between them. Watches Sean reach out to touch Orli, quickly drawing back before anyone, including Orli, notices. Sees Orli curl slightly into himself when Sean enters a room. And Viggo wants to say something to him. Ask him if he has what he wants. Ask Sean the same thing. But he doesn't. It's not his place. The two men seem to have achieved a delicate balance that works just for them. Who is he to question it?

***

Before Orli, it wouldn't have occurred to Sean that he could love another man. Shag one? Not a problem - although his encounters have always been with men who were willing to blow him and have him fuck them without asking for a thing in return, except maybe his hand. Rarely kissed one. Hasn't even kissed Orli since that first night. Wanted to but held back. Kissing just another road to an intimacy he's not willing to risk, to giving Orli a hope for them he's not willing to provide.

His relationships with women have been more conventional. Married three times. And he never started out as a bastard. Started out thinking this was the one, that he was in love, that he would make things right, would make things work this time. But they were never happy, never satisfied. He drank too much, smoked too much, watched too much footie, was away too much. Cared more about acting than them. Couldn't leave his characters on the set. Brought home the rage, the stupidity, the rough sex and kink, love-making set aside in the end for something more resembling an exorcism.

With his first wife, he'd simply been too young. Hadn't understood what he was getting himself into. His second and third wives thought they'd married Sharpe, Mellors, Count Vronsky. Sean Bean, the actor. Not him. And he'd seen the disappointment in their eyes, watched the bitterness and resentment grow as they realized they'd married some ignorant working class bloke who only _played_ the gentleman, the hero, the lover. Felt the anger grow inside him as he realized how they really felt about him. Raged at them, acting out, forcing the point, forcing their hand. Always rejecting before they could reject him. Leaving before they could leave him. Keeping it his decision before it could become theirs. Forever maintaining the upper hand. And never letting anyone know how completely and utterly destroyed he felt with the ending of each relationship.

He doesn't know what it is about Orli. Knows that he fell in love with him the first time he saw him, as stupid as that might seem. Knows that the love he feels for him is unlike anything he's felt before. But he also knows that anyone he told that would look at his three marriages and laugh in his face. And he couldn't begin to explain how this is different. Was different from the very start. But it is. It was.

He had believed he could keep Orli at arm's length as a friend and be fine with it. Then convinced himself he could shag him just once, have done with it and get him out of his system. Had done him so hard - skipped right to the bastard stage, right to the end of the relationship - that he thought for sure he'd turn tail and run. But he hadn't.

And they're still friends. Good friends. The two halves of their relationship so separate as to involve different people, parallel universes. But it's not enough. Sean finds himself wanting to mesh those two halves, meld those two universes. Finds himself wanting to touch Orli, to kiss him, hold him, talk to him, offer him a lover's endearments, a lover's support and pride.

Faced with Orli, he thinks about sinking to his knees before him, taking his cock into his mouth, pleasuring him. Thinks about telling him how he feels but never does, Orli's face to the couch, to the floor, to the wall long before he can reconcile himself.

***

Sean stands on the doorstep outside Orli's house. Thinks about going home. Would be doing them both a favour, a genuine kindness, if he did. But instead he knocks at the door, Orli letting him inside. And he watches as Orli stands before him, eyes slightly lowered, hands moving to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Don't," Sean says. And Orli stops. Sean knows he should say more. Wants so badly to say more. But he can't. Unable to find the words.

Orli looks at him. Stands there in the silence, just waiting. Finally speaks. "Then what?"

"There's a match on," Sean offers. And it's not what he should have said. Not what he meant to say. But at least he's managed to alter their pattern in some small way.

Orli nods, motions at the couch with one hand, walking around the coffee table and handing Sean the remote. "Do you want a beer?"

"Yeah," Sean says, flicking the television on, searching for the channel. "Beer'd be great."

Orli disappears into the kitchen, returning a minute later with two bottles, handing one to Sean and taking a seat at the far end of the couch, drawing his legs up beside him.

And this shouldn't be so awkward, Sean tells himself. They're friends on the set and in the pubs and at the house parties. Why not here? Why can't he bring himself to talk to Orli? But hell, he can't even bring himself to look at Orli. Just stares at the screen like he's watching the game but nothing's penetrating his brain. He couldn't even say who's playing.

"Have you heard from your girls lately?" Orli asks, peeling the label from his bottle.

And with that, Sean is able to look at him.

"Yeah, talked to Lorna and Molly on the phone last night," Sean says. "God, they're growing up so fast. I can't believe some of the things that come out of their mouths."

Orli smiles, takes a sip of his beer. "I've seen your photos. They're going to be absolutely beautiful when they're older."

"Yeah," Sean says. "They will. Just like their mum."

And just like that, everything is fine and the conversation flows. They talk about Sean's daughters. Orli's family. The Hobbits' antics and Peter's tantrums. Bungee-jumping and surfing. The commercials shown during the match. Anything and everything except what they both really want to talk about. Anything and everything except the distance that lies between them.

***

Orli's in the kitchen, getting yet another beer for Sean. Orli had hoped that the alcohol might loosen Sean up, allow him to penetrate the facade between them but this is number four and Orli's hopes are waning. He wants to touch Sean so very badly. Words are not enough. He needs to feel him, skin against skin. Should be glad Sean stopped him, just wanted to spend time together, but he's not. Needs more. Has this craving for him that needs to be satisfied.

He walks back into the living room, handing Sean the bottle, and drops to his knees in front of him, Sean looking at him wide-eyed, opening his mouth to say something but Orli puts a finger across his lips before he can speak. "Shhh," he says. "I need this. I want this. Please let me do this for you."

Undoes Sean's pants, Sean lifting his hips so Orli can slide them and his boxers down to his ankles. Sean returns his gaze to the television, taking a swig from the bottle as Orli lowers his head to his lap. Orli kisses Sean's cock. Licks the tip of it. Licks into the slit and Sean bucks against his mouth. Orli smiles to himself. Takes Sean's cock, just the head, into his mouth and sucks. Sucks gently and then harder. Pulls back. Licks and runs his tongue around the head before taking the entire length into his mouth. Swallowing it.

Sean moans. Places a hand at the back of Orli's head and Orli braces himself for the assault. But it doesn't come. Orli moves up and down on Sean's cock. Puts his hand around it, stroking gently but firmly as his tongue ministers to the head, the slit, the vein running beneath. And he's suddenly aware of Sean's hand moving gently through his hair, caressing him, wants to grab that hand, place it against his cheek, wants to move up and kiss him, make Sean moan into his mouth, but he knows if he dares draw attention to even this small thing, it will be taken away. So he continues sucking, licking, nipping, using both teeth and tongue to elicit any reaction he can from Sean.

And when Sean finally comes, it's not with the explosive force Orli's used to, it's a small death, a quiet shudder, a groan low in his chest, his body clenching slightly as he empties himself into Orli's throat.

Orli cleans him with his tongue, Sean lifting his hips once more as Orli pulls his pants back up, tucking him inside. Returns to his spot at the other end of the couch without a word. Sean doesn't speak either and they watch the rest of the match in silence.

When the game is over, Sean clicks off the television, places his empty bottle on the coffee table and heads for the front door.

"I really should go," he says softly, hand on the doorknob, not daring to look at Orli.

Orli just nods, even though he knows Sean can't see him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Sean says, opening and closing the door behind him.

Orli lies in bed awake for hours. Only falls asleep as the first light begins to filter through the blinds in his room.

***

Another month goes by. Viggo watches as Sean and Orli continue in this strange holding pattern. Neither giving a single thing away to the casual observer but he can see the pain written clearly on both their faces.

Reaches a point where he can't just stand by and watch.

"Orli, if you ever need to talk," he finally says, as they stand together on the sidelines while Peter talks to Sean about a scene. "I'm here."

"Yeah," Orli says softly. "I know. Thanks. I don't think it would help much though."

"Why not?"

Orli turns to Viggo. "Can you explain why he's doing this?" Pauses, looking over at Sean. "Better yet, can you tell me how to stop loving him?"

And Viggo wishes he could offer some words of wisdom, some sage piece of advice, but he can't see how anything he might say wouldn't serve to make things worse. So he holds his tongue. Shakes his head.

"Well then... What would be the point?" Orli asks, shrugging sadly and walking away.

***

There are nights when Orli considers not answering the door. Times when he thinks about saying no. But they become fewer and farther between. And he's not sure what he had thought would happen. Maybe that Sean would realize that he meant it when he offered himself unconditionally. Would realize that he loves him, is willing to love him for everything he is, good and bad.

And Orli wonders if Sean really believes that he's unaware of the almost-kisses that have Sean's lips brushing the air against his neck; the across-a-room glances which only serve to tell him how much Sean is hurting; the hand that forgets and moves gently through his hair as he kneels before him; or the hitch of Sean's hips when he thinks he might actually have hurt Orli.

All these things have given him hope. Are what have kept him answering the door. Kept him saying yes. Kept him loving Sean.

But it's getting harder and harder to sustain that hope. To believe that there will be a point when he breaks through. When Sean realizes that he's there for good.

Stopping, however, is no longer an option. He's not sure how he would live without Sean any more. He's become an addiction for Orli - that almost-brush of his lips, that soft gentle touch, that hitch of his hips, that glimmer of hope all equalling the sweetest rush, and one that keeps him coming back time after time.

***

Viggo's holding a rare - for him - party at his place. Everyone's there, drinking and milling about the living room, spilling into the kitchen and out onto the front porch. Sean looks around, catching Orli's eyes from across the room. Watches as the question - _do you want me?_ \- forms in them and shakes his head in response. Sees Orli blanch slightly, turning back to Elijah and Harry. And he feels like a complete and utter shit but oh, well. What's new?

Sean wanders into the kitchen and takes another beer from the fridge. Talks to Craig and Karl for a few minutes before heading back into the living room. Looking around once again, he decides there's no one he wants to talk to here. Opens the screen door and walks around to the side of the porch, sits down, dangling his feet over the side and staring off into the trees and the darkness.

He's not sure what the hell he's doing. But whatever it is, it has to stop. He thought there was a point at which Orli would tell him to fuck off. Would drop kick him the hell out of his life but it hasn't come yet and Sean's reached the point that he's not sure he has it in him to keep trying to convince Orli.

"Hey, Sean." And it's Viggo. "Mind if I join you?"

"Nope."

Viggo sits down beside him. "Not enjoying the party?"

"It's fine. Just don't feel like talking to anyone tonight," Sean says, staring down at the deck, running one finger against the grain.

"You want me to go?" Viggo starts to get back up.

"No. You're fine. I meant anyone else."

"What about Orli?"

Good question. What about Orli?

"Vig..." he says softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm fucking things up."

"I know."

"I don't know what to do any more. I thought he'd get the message. I thought he'd get sick of the way I treated him and just fuck off."

"But he hasn't."

"No, he hasn't. And I've stopped wanting him to." Pauses. "Because if he can hang on through all of this, maybe he could hang on through anything."

"He loves you."

"Don't say that."

"He does."

"He shouldn't."

"He should," Viggo insists. "Sean, I don't know why your marriages went wrong. I know you've said something about not being able to shed the nastiness of some of your roles, bringing all that shit home a little too often, but that's not unusual for an actor."

"I know."

"And you can't stop loving people just because you've been hurt. You can't strike out at them first in an effort to stop yourself from being hurt. You just have to throw yourself in there and give it your all and see what happens or yeah, you do fuck everything up and you lose any chance at happiness and love because you were too busy putting up roadblocks before they got anywhere near you."

"So what the hell do I do now?"

"You talk to Orli. You tell him how you feel. You stop raking him and yourself over the coals. And you take a chance."

Sean takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Hears the screen door open and Orli comes around the corner, his eyes taking in the two men sitting there, quickly focusing on Viggo.

"Hey guys. I'm going now. I'm beat. Karl's going too. He'll drop me off."

Viggo stands up. "Okay." Gives Orli a big hug. "See you tomorrow. Get a good night's sleep."

Orli steps back to wait for Karl. Viggo kicks Sean. Sean gets up.

"I'll take you home," he says.

"You don't have to," Orli says. "Karl said he would."

"You're on my way," Sean says firmly.

"Sean..."

"Orli. Let me take you home."

And Orli hears the question in his voice, the change in his tone, sees Viggo over his shoulder, nodding his head once _say yes_.

"Okay."

"Goodnight guys. Orli, I'll let Karl know you have a ride," Viggo says, heading back into the house.

***

Orli and Sean don't speak a word on the way to Orli's house.

Sean is gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles have turned white and Orli wants to ask him what's wrong but asking Sean anything about how he's feeling is simply one more thing that's not allowed.

Orli stares out the window into the darkness, trying to catch Sean in the reflection in the window, hoping he won't notice.

But he does. And Sean thinks for all the intimacies they've shared, both as friends and lovers, they don't know a damn thing about each other. So how the hell can he even begin to think he's in love with Orli? But he is. And the whole damn mess is entirely his fault.

***

Inside Orli's place, Sean stays by the door and waits as Orli turns on the lights and returns to stand in front of him.

Sean wants to tell him. Wants to tell him how sorry he is, how stupid he's been, how wrong, how ignorant. Wants to tell him he loves him, wants Orli to love him, longs to make everything right. But doesn't know how. He's not Viggo. He doesn't have the words for this. But maybe he can show Orli, if nothing else.

Sean puts his hand up to brush Orli's cheek and Orli flinches. Sean pulls back, stunned by his reaction.

"I'm sorry," Orli says, not looking at him.

"No," Sean says. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

And Orli brings his gaze to Sean's face, Sean knowing that he's looking for sarcasm but finding none.

Orli steps back, frowning.

Sean closes the distance, pulls Orli into his arms and kisses him, gently, passionately, putting everything he's got into making Orli know with this kiss that he loves him, that he needs him, that--

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Orli asks, pulling back and stepping away.

_What?_

"I was kissing you," Sean says.

"Why?" Orli asks.

"Because I wanted to."

"You haven't wanted to before," Orli says. "Not since that first night."

"Orli--"

"Why now?"

And Sean's silent. He doesn't know what to say. All the words he can think of are so very wrong. Too much. Not enough. Just wrong.

"Because I've been wrong," Sean says. "Because I--"

"No!" Orli shouts, backing around the couch, away from Sean.

"Orli, what's wrong?"

"Get away from me."

"Why? I--"

"I want you to leave."

"Why?" He didn't expect this.

"Right now, Sean. I want you to leave. Get the fuck out."

"Just tell me why."

"Because you don't get to do this," Orli says angrily.

"Don't get to do what?"

"Don't get to do this," And he's crying now. "You don't get to change the rules. Not after all this time. Not when I've finally learned them."

"Orli," and Sean's following him, trying to get him to stop, needs him to stop, to listen, to let him make things right.

"No!" Orli insists, backing up against the front door. "You don't get to do this. You don't."

Sean grabs him, pulls him close, Orli still yelling "Don't. Just leave me alone. I hate you, Sean." Punching him. "I fucking hate you," the two of them crumpling to the floor in each other's arms.

And Sean does the only thing he knows how to do, cups the back of Orli's head and kisses him again, his tongue slipping through parted lips, exploring, taking, possessing, telling Orli he wants to know him, wants to know all of him. And Orli responds, kisses back, his tears slicking Sean's cheek. Sean pulls back and kisses Orli's forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, his jaw, his neck, behind his ears. Orli twists away.

"I mean it," he says, the desperation clear in his voice, talking more to himself than Sean. "You don't get to change the rules. Not now. Not when I've finally learned them, accepted them."

"Orli--"

"Now you want to change them. Just like that. Why?"

And it's now or never. "Because I love you."

"Don't say that."

"I have to," Sean says. "Because I do. It's how I feel."

Orli's silent, staring at the far wall. And Sean waits.

"I don't know what you want from me," Orli says finally. Flatly.

"Anything you'll give me."

"I already gave you everything," Orli says, pointedly. "I gave you everything from the moment we first met. I offered you everything the first night we were together."

"I know," Sean says. "I--"

"You threw it back at me. You didn't want it."

"I wanted it, Orli. Oh God. I wanted it. I just--"

"I'm not sure I even have it to offer again," he says softly. And he looks like Sean feels. Broken.

"I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make things better. How to fix things. I love you. I've loved you from the moment I saw you. From the moment Peter introduced us."

"Then why..."

"I don't know. I'm not good with words, Orli. I'm not good at explaining why I do things," Sean says, rubbing his face with his hands. "I didn't mean for us to get involved at all. I tried to stay away from you but I wasn't strong enough. And then once we were involved, it was easier to hurt you before you could hurt me. I thought if I treated you badly enough, you'd end things but I'd have made you end them. I'd still have been in control. It's how I dealt with things when my marriages went sour."

"You didn't even give us a chance."

"I know I didn't. But I couldn't stand the idea of losing everything again. I thought I loved my wives but I think I just accepted the idea that I was supposed to be married and they were beautiful and sexy and we got along well and I thought that was the same as loving someone. And then I met you and I suddenly knew what I'd been missing. I realized as I got to know you that I loved everything about you, not just the idea of you. Realized you were it. The real thing. And I couldn't help but think if the others had hurt me as badly as they did, that you had the potential to destroy me."

"Christ, Sean."

"I know," Sean says. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how to make it up to you. But I want to. If you'll let me."

"I don't know whether to believe you. I'm not sure I even know who you are," Orli says. "And I know I couldn't handle it if we went back to the way things are."

"I don't know what to say, Orli. But have I ever given you any reason to think there was a chance for us before this?"

Sean pauses, exhales softly, before continuing.

"All I've ever wanted was you, Orli. Even before I met you, all I ever wanted was you, someone who would love me for everything I am, good and bad. It just took me some time to realize I'd found you. I told Viggo tonight that I'd finally figured out that if you were willing to stay with me through all of this then it might not be utter stupidity to think you might stay with me no matter what. That you might stay with me forever."

Sean leans forward, covering Orli's mouth with his. Cupping his head gently in his hand, pressing him closer, his mouth soft but insistent. Orli kisses back, responding hesitantly, slowly but surely. Sean pulls back to look at him and Orli moves his hands to his t-shirt, going to pull it off but Sean stops him. "Don't," he says and Orli's face drops. "Not out here. I want to make love to you properly. In your bed."

Orli looks away. Refuses to meet Sean's eyes.

_Fine_. Sean scoops Orli up in his arms and takes him into the bedroom. Lowers him onto the unmade bed, depositing him amidst rumpled sheets and discarded clothing. Draws Orli's t-shirt up over his head, unzips his jeans - per their rules he's wearing nothing underneath - and pulls them down and off over his feet. Strips his own clothes off quickly, throwing them to the floor with Orli's.

Sean climbs onto the bed, lies on top of Orli, his body between the younger man's legs. Orli's eyes are closed tight and he looks so young and so terrified that Sean wants to cry. Thinks that maybe once again he is making a terrible mistake. But he needs to see this through.

"Open your eyes, Orli," he says softly.

"I can't."

"Please..."

And he does.

"I love you," Sean says, covering Orli's mouth with his. Kissing him gently, firm but insistent. Feeling Orli's lips part beneath his. Explores Orli's mouth with his tongue, wanting to memorize everything about this. Wanting this to erase, no, not erase, but wanting this to take precedence when he thinks of them together.

Kisses his forehead, his brow, his eyes which are closed again, his cheekbones, his nose, his cheeks and his jaw. Blankets his skin with soft kisses. Orli shudders. He's crying again. And Sean is torn - torn between stopping and just holding him and continuing to convey the words he would say, but cannot, through his touch.

He settles for kissing Orli's cheeks once again, tasting his tears on his lips before moving lower to kiss his neck, his shoulders, his chest, caressing small firm nipples with the light brush of his lips. Feeling them harden in response. Moistens them with his tongue, flicks them gently and then harder and Orli moans. Bites them oh-so-gently, feeling Orli's cock pulse against his thigh.

Places wet open-mouth kisses that have Orli trembling along his ribs and down his stomach. Hovering for just a moment over Orli's weeping cock before lowering his head and taking it into his mouth. And Orli whimpers, clenching the sheets in his hands.

Sean's never done this. Had it done to him but never done it. And it feels so very strange. But he wants to do this for Orli. Needs to do this for Orli. Sucks tentatively at the head before opening wider and taking as much as he can into his mouth, sliding his mouth up and down, feeling his gag reflex triggering a couple of times. But speeds up as he hears Orli say

"Stop, Sean. I'm too close. I'm going to--" Convulsing into Sean's mouth. "Oh God. Oh God, Sean. Oh." Flooding him, bitter, saltysweet, Sean struggling to swallow, not to gag after all. But it's not as bad as he thought it would be and his heart thrills at having done this for Orli.

He lifts his head to see Orli staring down at him, his eyes wide and shining in the half-light filtering through the blinds. He's smiling and biting at his lip. "Thank you," he whispers.

And Sean is overcome. Quickly moves back up to take Orli into his arms, kissing him, so deeply, so fiercely this time, Orli responding to him with a passion that Sean feared he might have destroyed.

"I need you inside me," Orli says, soft and needy, when they pull apart to breathe.

Sean looks around, Orli anticipating his question. "There's some stuff in the top dresser drawer."

Sean retrieves the lube and returns to the bed, to Orli. Goes to slick his fingers and Orli says "Don't. I need you inside me now."

Sean feels his breath catch.

He coats his cock with the lube and reaches for Orli who begins to turn over. "No," Sean says. "I want to see you. Please let me see you."

Orli turns back, meeting his eyes and staring deep into him. Spreads his legs wide and Sean accepts the invitation, moving between them. Presses himself against Orli's still so tight opening, presses inside, sliding deep in one smooth gentle push. Orli moans, wrapping his legs around Sean's waist and throwing his head back, Sean kissing his throat.

Sean moves slowly in out in out and -oh god- Orli is pure slick wet heat, the way he moves underneath him, the look of ecstasy on his face at feeling Sean inside something Sean wishes he could have seen these last few months, seen every time Orli clenched around his cock, his body shuddering and trembling against him. And he aches for the lost time, aches for what he should have done, what could have been, but can't let himself get caught there, needing to change this, make this what they both remember, needing to set a pattern they can follow from here on.

Sean withdraws, pulling out to the head, pauses and shoves back in. Not roughly. But firmly. And Orli groans, his cock twitching violently against Sean's stomach. "Oh, again, Sean. Again," he urges and Sean complies. Does it again and again and again, Orli shaking, whimpering, moaning beneath him, Sean trying hard to keep the angle just right. Feeling more turned on than he ever has, watching as Orli, his mouth a startled -oh-, opens his eyes and looks right into Sean as his body stiffens and he comes, semen pulsing against Sean's stomach, crying out

"Oh fuck fuck Sean oh God"

muscles clenching, squeezing Sean, urging him to come and he does with a roar, throwing his head back, shoving himself into Orli, sheathing himself inside the tightness, spilling molten heat deep into him

-christ oh god oh fuck-

hips hitching, body freezing and then -oh god- the aftershocks running though his body. Coming back into himself to find Orli smiling up at him, his eyes glowing. And Sean feels something deep inside him relax, letting go.

***

Sean gently pulls out, lies down beside Orli, Orli nestling against him, arms and legs wrapped around his body and his head on Sean's shoulder.

"Will you stay?" Orli says and Sean's all too aware of what it costs him to ask.

Sean feels the tears well, finds himself unable to speak, settles for pulling Orli closer to him and kissing the top of his head.

***

Sean wakes in the middle of the night. Unwraps himself from Orli, slipping out of the bed. Takes a piss, washes his hands, splashes his face with cool water and heads down the hall to the kitchen where he pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge.

Turns around to see Orli standing there, eyes wide, face pale.

"Orli, are you okay?" he asks.

Orli nods. "I thought you'd left me."

"Oh God," Sean says. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. C'mere." Holding his arms out for Orli.

Orli moves into them, burying his face in Sean's neck, holding onto him so tightly it hurts but Sean's not complaining. Holds him even tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere, Orli. I promise. I'm not going anywhere."


End file.
